


Adamant Whispers

by VulpusTumultum



Series: The Tevinter's Templar [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Minor Game Spoilers, cameos by other companions or they are mentioned but don't have speaky bits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpusTumultum/pseuds/VulpusTumultum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort of what-if: the companions not actually teamed with the Inquisitor had still been at Adamant  with the rest of the army, Dorian's reaction/PoV as he waits with everyone else to see if Lavellan will be back again.</p><p>(This takes place before the last chapter of "Lyrium Promises" but I kept it separate since it has a different feel and PoV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adamant Whispers

The words were getting whispered, blooming outward from the central keep where the blood magic had been started and a great rift still shimmered in the air- not _quite_ opened, and not going to close until the Inquisitor came to do it.

 

Except the whisper was  _“What happened to the Inquisitor? Where is the Herald?”_

 

Everyone had seen Corypheus' great, decaying dragon, even those not in the central keep. But even though the Wardens had surrendered, people couldn't be allowed to just rush in- most of the soldiers weren't in much of a state to rush, tired from the fighting, still on edge and wary, unsure if the Grey Wardens would  _stay_ surrendered.

Even from a distance, the collapse of that great archway had been spectacular- not everyone had seen it, the dragon falling with the heavy stones then managing to twist and fly away- those who just saw the dragon flying away had cheered. Even those who'd been a little closer hadn't necessarily seen what else had fallen with those stones.

 

“ _He fell. He vanished. He's dead.”_

 

The rumors were caught suddenly, officers trying to stop them before they got too far out, into too much of the army, but rumors in armies, when there's no active fighting- they aren't stopped easily.

The counterpoints rattled after like a twisted echo:

 

“ _He can't be dead. Not until I see the body. He came back after Haven. Did anyone **really** see him fall? Maybe he had to go deep into the Keep. He **can't** be dead. Not the Herald, not like_ _**that** _ **.** ”

 

Some still had enough to do that they couldn't dwell on whispers or mysterious disappearances. Relaying actual orders, or giving them. Tending to the injured. Beginning to gather up the dead or stabilize what they'd earlier begun to knock down, so that it didn't come down now that things were peaceful.

Dorian didn't have enough to do, nor did Varric, both having been there supporting the troops and not by Lavellan's immediate side. Varric sat on rubble and tended to Bianca, wiping her clean before slinging her back. Dorian paced.

“Relax, Sparkler, we'd have to walk on top of people to get past the choke point- and there's too many different variations for any of the rumors to be accurate. He'll be fine.”

“Of course he is fine. I merely want to set him ablaze for his disappearing act, since we can hardly leave this stinking heap without him.”

 

“ _Ran after that Mage and the Commander Clarel, dragon attacked them, on that archway that fell into the chasm..”_

 

An hour later, in the central square, staring at the rift and the hazy view of something enormous and evil, larger than any demon he'd seen before. Chest tight,  _what had that idiot been thinking._ But of course he'd been thinking of that damn Venatori mage- now under close guard only a few dozen feet away- and of luring that dragon away from where there had been so many people packed together.

Dorian wasn't pacing anymore, just standing in the tense little knot of...friends. Not of each other, necessarily, entirely, but people who Inquisitor Lavellan  _had better not have just left behind. What kind of Herald just ups and vanishes without a trace?_

Blackwall was watching his fellow Wardens, but seemed to want to stay distant from them- Dorian wanted to snarl about their unthinking zealotry and fear, but bit it back.

Varric was shuffling a deck of cards, ocassionally muttering that Hawke and/or the Inquisitor still owed him money, and the mage felt a little twinge for the dwarf- he was waiting to find out about two ridiculously, stupidly, recklessly heroic idiots, not just one.

Cole was wandering through the crowd, like a lost puppy, sometimes in sight, and sometimes gone, though he probably was doing whatever it was he did to try fixing soldiers and wardens who were in too much shock.

Vivienne was standing stiffly off to the side, glaring at any surviving Warden mages with distaste.

Cassandra was arguing with someone behind him, but he didn't care enough to listen, or look to see who with.

Dorian had lost track of whether he was praying or cursing, when not beginning to pick apart the things he should have said, should have done.  _Remembering the way the man always started to stare at his shoulder or twitched when he smiled. The way he rolled his shoulders when bored or tense, noticing the differences in how he did so. How the Inquisitor could seem baffled or just plain oblivious one moment then suddenly catch up. The man wandering out of the library regularly with piles of books, or wandering back in to return them._

_Wondering if he'd ever make the first move, so much fun to tease but if he's gone now-_

There were shouts, and he looked up from where he'd been staring fixedly at a carving on his staff that his neck twinged- the giant rift began to pulse, ripple.

_No Inquisitor to close it. Vishante kaffas is the demon really that big?_

The circle around the thing widened, everyone taking steps back- it rippled sharply again, and then it spat out five figures and one of them skidded around, a flare of green light that became almost blinding, from his palm, gritting his teeth and wincing as the air made a tortured sound- and then silence, the rift no longer there.

“Boss, let's  _not_ do that again.”

“Agreed.”

“Why are we still here? Let's go  _home_ already! I need to not be in a creepy place full of shites who pull demons out of their arses because of friggin'  _whispers_ .”

First a shockwave of cheering, then new whispers thanking the Maker, talking of miracles- but Dorian could only stare and try to remember how to breathe.


End file.
